Talking To Yourself
by deideiblueeyez
Summary: In the aftermath of Solas breaking up with Tallin Lavellan, she is devastated, confused, distraught. She can't confront him, though, she can't. The mirror in her quarters is the only audience that is allowed to listen to her rambling, her desperate attempts to make sense of it, of where she went wrong. [Cold, tragic Post-Break up Solavellan HELL.]
1. Prologue

**A/N: So I posted this on AO3 and decided to post it here. Unfortunately, this website does not seem too keen on preserving my special formatting of my character's brief mental break. Sucks. This is just a prologue and then the self-effacing monologues will begin.**

 **This will be a series of vignettes, an anthology I guess, of my Lavellan trying to understand why Solas has broken things off with her. She is not brave enough to confront him, so she tries to cope by speaking her thoughts into a mirror.**

 **This is not a story of a well-adjusted individual.**

* * *

In the mirror, Tallin watched her hand rise to her face. The raven's talons of Dirthamen were cut neatly into her cheeks, prominent with the dark ink that stained the scars. She had chosen him because of the countless nights of listening rapt by the campfire as the elders recounted stories of the gods and how she could recite every variation by heart by the time she had reached 8 years. How she was always a quiet child that preferred to listen and wait, never raised her voice, remained unbreakable at the prospect of punishment when interrogated for information on harmless pranks that her friends played on the unsuspecting.

Her eyes, brown, ' _Like mahogany..or chestnuts_ ,' he once told her.

Her eyes, pupils blown large in the effort to capture the dim light that were held in sconces on the stone walls.

Her eyes, large enough to see her reflection's reflection.

Her cheek, prickling and stinging as nails began to press into the pliant flesh.

Her cheek, smearing red.

Her cheek, stinging from wet salt.

All those subtle jabs at her culture, all his criticisms that seemed to come from a place of prejudice that sounded vaguely human in origin, they were legitimate. There was no question he was telling the truth. Solas was not a person to lie to bring someone low. The question that remained was *how* he knew. Even Morrigan's knowledge seemed restricted to research from centuries-old records, how ever meticulous and exhaustive she was.

He spoke as if he had been present when the original myths had been crafted.

'And yet,' she thought with a wince, 'and yet he is so 'high-minded' that he thinks shattering my faith was a gift?'

He told her the Truth, and as she stood reeling from the revelation he offered, he pinned her with a few sweet words and a kiss that promised more, that silently said 'that does not matter, we are here together now'.

It would have been better had he backhanded her across the face before admitting that he much preferred her skin to be mottled with purple and red bruises. Then, as she recovered from the blow with tears in her eyes, he would give her his utmost assurance that he was capable of accepting her unmolested state just as readily. And gods damn her, by the time he uttered the word "perfect", it sounded so much like he was granting her a favor with his adoration. A favor she couldn't refuse, couldn't bear or afford to rebuff.

She prayed that he didn't know that that tear-filled kiss had not been out of relief by his words but anguish. And yet in the end it didn't matter. Before he pulled away she realized that something between them had fallen to pieces.

They had cozied up to each other over the past few months, and for the first time Tallin believed she found someone who understood the preference for quiet, for ruminating, for passive but enduring resistance. The transition from some suspiciously Fade-touched elf to Inquisitor had relied heavily on emotional support from him, truly. Ashamed as she was to admit it, no one else, not even herself, served as the keystone for all of this.

Her chest felt hollow, and yet try as she might she couldn't stitch it closed fast enough.

Forget about him. Forget about him. Forget. Forget. _Forget._

That was what he wanted her to do. Forget. She was trying, gods she was trying. Her meals were taken in her room, the better to avoid seeing him, the better to devote more free time to forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

It wasn't working, and others were taking notice, though she quietly shut down anyone's attempts to broach the topic.

They were all insistent in their own way, with Dorian and Varric being especially sympathetic, but passive and cautious. She avoided looking Iron Bull in the eye because of how easily he would read into her fears, Cole because she simply did not want to hear what he had to say, because his truths were still lies. Blackwall and Cassandra gave the characteristic 'I'm here if you need to talk' line which was folded into her pocket out of courtesy, but never considered.

She didn't need, didn't want, any of it.

Sera had especially tried to needle her until she would give in. It all culminated into a particularly traumatic experience when she decided that weaponizing her abrasiveness with her streetborne "tough love" would glean the best results: Despite knowing better, Tallin found herself lured into Sera's nook and was quite literally pounced upon by the gangly yet spry elf whose weight led her to being pushed into her odd assortment of cushions piled generously along the oriole window's bench. Tallin tried to push her off but found herself stricken by a paralysis that she only experienced at night when thoughts of him overwhelmed her.

Bony knees pressed into her back, a loud voice rang in her ear. "Come on, you idiot! You won't get better unless you tell me what's wrong!"

She was not ready to confront the issue, she was not ready, they could not make her, they could not, they could not, they-

"Tell me, tell me, tell me, come on you idiot, tell me!"

-could not could not could not couldnot couldnot couldnotcouldnotcouldnot couldnotcouldnot **COULDNOTCOULDNOT** **C-O-U-L-D-N-O-** ** _T_** **-**

So she screamed. She screamed as if flames had been set alight on her skin, as if she were being eaten alive by the living dead. A long, ragged, high-pitched note that she did not know she was capable of making, Sera least of all.

She didn't remember how she was rescued, only that one minute she was unable to breathe, and another the pressure on her back had been removed and voices with words that no longer made sense began to shout. Everything was a smear from the tears that clouded her vision, everything rang hollow from her own screaming which still echoed in her head.

Without thinking she ducked underneath arms blocking her escape and jumped over the railing to land awkwardly on the ground floor. Somehow it didn't faze her. Perhaps she was driven by the dead silence that filled the tavern at the commotion, her weeping, and her spectacular fall. All she wanted in that moment was to disappear, disappear, disappear, disappear. She kept her head down as she ran across the grounds and up the stairs to the main hall. She could not hold it in. She was sputtering, clenching her teeth, tripping over herself as she madly dashed for the sanctuary of her quarters. The soft gasps and murmuring by those dignitaries that milled around for a chance to speak with Josephine might as well have been snuffed candle flames or papers blown off a table.

It was only when she finally scaled the last stairs to her room and jogged awkwardly to her bed that Tallin was struck by how absolutely ridiculous and pathetic and insane she must have looked to all the onlookers, all of her supporters, all of her colleagues.

They'll think I'm insane. They think I'm insane. They think it, they know it. I'm insane I'm insane I'm insane.

This sentiment, repeated until it coalesced into a singular locus; now she finally understood what Cole meant by a pearl of pain. It certainly was, but it grounded her, focused her. Tears that shed for something instead of everything. Pain that she could touch within herself, fixate on like a figure in the distance.

Tallin lay curled up on her bed and stared out at the open balcony beyond the intricately carved footboard until the sky turned black. No one came to disturb her all night.

Quietly, to herself, she whispered a word that now seemed comforting. "Insane..insane..insane.."


	2. Good Listener

**A/N: And so begins the vignettes and random bits and pieces that fall out of Tallin's mouth when she's alone and she can't hold it in anymore.**

* * *

"Back in Haven you spoke of things I never would have dreamed of, of things that I never learned with all the myths told by clan growing up.

I loved listening to you, I thought about what you said long after we stopped talking. Seeing you became the favorite part of my day. When you smiled at me, at what I said, it felt like the sun was burning in my chest. I wanted to see you smile at me more. I came to learn that you liked it when I asked questions, but more when I simply listened to you talk. Do you remember that time when you told me that I was a good listener? Only the Keeper ever told me that before. That's why she chose me to attend the Conclave meeting...

You probably don't. You probably think it was just a nice thing to say, but it meant the world to me. I know I blushed when you said it, I know I did. I felt my face grow hot, hotter when you laughed at something I tried and failed to say. You were patient, you explained, you painted wonderful pictures with your words. When I said something wrong, something that made you frown, something that showed how ignorant I was, I wanted to die. It was odd, how easy the thought came to me, it never with anyone else, but with you...it just appeared.

Your frown. _Die_.

'I disagree.' _Die_.

'Try to imagine-' _Die_.

So in the back of my head I always worried. I worried you would hate me for something I said, or simply give up on me, that you'd return your eyes to the Fade and not look at me anymore.

I wanted your approval so much, I wanted you to like me, like me more and more. I came to agree with everything you said because you were the one who said it. What you said about the Dalish, about my people, they were barbs I was worried I could never shake off. I would be different from those who turned you away. I would not. I would learn, _hahren_ , please teach me so I would know...

The world outside my clan, outside our hunting grounds was scary before I came to the Conclave, before I met you. Humans were scary, magic was scary, spirits were scary. Everything is still scary but because of you I came to know why and why not. Because of you, I could pretend to be brave, pretend that this all made sense until it did.

You said things I didn't agree with yet you convinced me they were right. I don't know if they are right anymore, who is right anymore...What scares me is that I'm not scared that I don't know.

I believed you.

Now I believe nothing."


	3. Masked Ball

Remember the Winter Palace? Of course you do. That was a stupid question, sorry.

I had a terrible time. I was out-of-place. I knew. They knew. It was the first time that I could feel my vallaslin burning on my skin. Everyone's eyes on me, just like back at Haven, just like in the courtyard of Skyhold. Waiting for me to do something. Do what? What did they want? I couldn't hide from them. Josephine told me to watch what I said, so I said nothing unless I had to, and I was so nervous that I just said what I thought. They wore masks. How could I possibly tell what they wanted to hear if I couldn't see their faces? I was glad I brought Cole along. Not that I wouldn't have wanted to go with just you! Ah, n-not that I had forgotten why we were there! Not that I'd forgotten that this was the place that my people-

I'm sorry, you don't like it when I talk about Dalish history. I'm sorry.

They called me a savage under their breaths. The elders had talked about what the humans called us, but it was the first time that I had heard someone use such words to describe me. Have I ever told you that I never met a human before the Conclave? Or rather, I hid behind the _aravels_ or ducked behind the halla whenever they approached the elders. I listened but didn't speak to them then.

Ahh-haah, I suppose I should consider myself lucky that Cassandra and Leliana were kind, even when they suspected me of causing the explosion at the Conclave. Even Roderick. He hated me, you know-of course you know, you were there-but he never insulted me like that...

So..no, I truly had never been called such things before that night, not directly, nor indirectly. You must have found my naivete quaint at times, frustrating at others. I'm sorry for that, _hahren_.

The words hurt, though. I wasn't used to it, not like you were, not like you always were.

I thought that..I know you don't like it when I suggest this sort of thing, I'm sorry, but..when I saw you leaning against that statue in the guest wing..I thought we would be able to bond over how frivolous everything was. Being elves. Being outsiders. You were not Dalish, and I was, and though you knew so much of the world better than I, you dressed so simply, always, you spoke plainly, truthfully, you chose your words carefully to mean what they meant. I love you for it. Plain and simple and honest, like home. Like home.

I walked towards you, a beacon situated at the end of a long, polished floor. The sight of you, red and gold and blue, gave me strength to smile politely at the whispering guests as I passed them. I pictured what we would do together: We would laugh at them the same way they laughed at me, private jokes they would never get. You would agree it was all pointless but it must be done and _how much better would the world be if this glittering one never existed?_.

But when I got closer, my hopeful smile had been wiped away: Tucked away in that corner, you were watching everyone, smirking. At first I thought you had started without me-what jokes would you have for me about what you had seen so far? Cullen told me you slipped in before us. How did you do that? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It was a stupid question.

When you saw me, the edges in your face-cruel, I thought. For only a moment, I swear!-softened. Somewhat. You were still shining with so much happiness, and a small fearful thought in the back of my head, a wordless one that speaking with you gradually began to give sound, whispered that you were happy because of them, not despite them. I saw it in your eyes, and you told me that you felt at home here. Here, among these humans that would scheme to keep lands from ou-my people? That would levy heavy taxes on their serfs, or kill each other over a perceived slight without a moment's hesitation?

And as you spoke, that glimmer in your eyes had only confirmed my fears. How much you reveled in the trysts and the gossip and the games the humans played with each other! There were lives at stake, and they cared about such silly things. Even Leliana! You were deriving amusement from this entirely different world than the one I knew.

You were always so reserved even when we were together, and it was rare when I managed to even make your teeth show in your smile. And yet these people, these people who did not-they did not deserve you, they did not know how much you mean to me-they-you-they made you smirk, they pleased you in a way I hadn't yet been able to.

It was the first time I remember...doubting. Doubting _you_. I don't know for what, but..

But I pushed those thoughts away. Because they suggested you were not honest, because they would lead me to question you, and I couldn't let that happen. I could never allow myself to do that.

You asked what was wrong. I did not lie when I told you that the things they said hurt, hurt more because I was not brave enough to protest like you were, was not clever like Vivienne or Dorian and able to navigate their maze-like conversations. You smiled at me, a smile that had no teeth like the one you gave them, and said that I should not let them bully me. We both knew I was a pushover, it's why you said it. I need reminding, I always do. I don't know how I ever managed myself before you came along.

My throat clenched, and I tried to swallow. Failed, but I tried. I wanted to stay near you. I knew we were there with an intent to save the empress, but people I didn't know whispering of my mistakes, my slip-ups behind their hands ... I needed you to ground me, protect me. I couldn't do it myself. I didn't want to be here, and now I was terrified that this would be yet another world that I could lose you in.

When you kindly suggested I eavesdrop on the servants, my mouth went dry. Your tone was amicable, but the words were dead nails in my ears. I stuttered, bowed my head because it was a scolding from an elder even when it wasn't. It was to me, so it was. No matter that I dared to think that we were together, I still hadn't allowed myself to think that, not yet, not yet. You were just being considerate to me, acting as a mentor, a guide, patient, patient, patient, patient with me when I never deserved it.

I remember thinking what a foolish thing I was doing, clinging to you like a child to her mother's dress. Foolish, foolish, childish.

Before I turned to return to my investigation..I don't know how, but I asked you if you would dance with me when everything was all done. Your voice held a tinge of surprise - when I was forward with you, you were always taken aback. I still don't know where I got my courage in those moments. No, not courage. Desperation that bubbled over until I couldn't stop myself. I don't know, I don't know...

I tried not to cry when I saw all those dead servants. I did not scream when Leliana suggested we allow Empress Celene to die in order to draw out Florianne. I knew you would not approve. I did not want to do it in the first place, but I saw you in my mind's eye and I knew you wouldn't approve, so it's why I put my foot down.

When everything was said and done...when you approached me on the balcony..I was so tired. My shoulders ached, my eyes hurt, my chest was hollow from the speech I gave as I addressed the people I had saved, the people that had scoffed and labelled me "savage" only two hours prior. They hadn't known me, and they still didn't, but they were nice now, celebratory.

And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to leave with you right then and there. But all I could do was stand on the balcony and try not to throw up while my face prickled and buzzed from the afterglow of all of those lying eyes staring up at me from the dance floor.

I think I cried again for a bit as I waited for you, I think some of those tears were out of fear that you had forgotten about what you promised earlier. Time stood still and circled around itself as I counted the stars.

You didn't miss a thing, you could see that the night had worn heavily on me. But I didn't want to disappoint you. I wanted to dance, I really did, so when you offered me your hand, I was so..happy. I smelled the wine you had earlier this evening on your breath, and the scent of forest moss that never seemed to leave you. I tried my best to keep a steady pace, I did, I wanted to show you all the steps Josephine had taught me, everything I practiced for this night, everything I practiced hoping to impress you, but I faltered. I tripped, like an idiot, like a fool. A stupid, stupid Dalish elf girl out-of-place among the silks and fake smiles and sweet cakes.

You caught me and I must have looked mortified because you kissed the hand you had been holding to guide me and said it was alright, I had done enough for this evening. ' _You are a hero to them._ ' you reminded me. ' _Enjoy yourself, help me celebrate your diplomatic success_ '.

I tried to smile but it hurt my mouth. You didn't shake me off when I gripped you tight and whispered my stuttered apologies for ruining this moment we had together. When it's you I can't think straight. Everything was already fuzzy and knotted and you made it-you didn't make it worse, don't think that, no, no I needed you then, I need you now-I made it-I make everything-

I'm still sorry for ruining your evening, even though it seems so long ago. You told me you understood, you gave me the same look I remember Mother always gave me when I was small and didn't know why I was crying, only that I needed to for some reason, needed someone to tell me I could.

And you did. ' _Exhausted_ ' as I was, ' _considering everything that had happened..._ '

You then took to meeting my "sorry"s with "hush"es, every time. I said "sorry" a lot during that dance, but you eventually let me explain why I was sorry, and I managed to get another sorry in for being so difficult. You gave me such an exasperated look then, but before I could start crying again your brows lifted and you said that I was too hard on myself and that you loved me, it was fine, you loved me, it was fine, hush, hush, hush.

I think I even napped for a minute on your shoulder as you held me close while we swayed in place when the violins began to slow.

That was the last time I ever inspired you to dance with me.

I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry.


End file.
